Tales of Zuko
by Hragon
Summary: A collection of stories pertaining to Zuko's life after he joins Team Avatar. They take place at specified, varied times.
1. Dinner

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender and any of its content.**

Setting: Western Air Temple, shortly after The Firebending Masters

Zuko shut the door to his room behind him and looked down to assess exactly how soaking wet he was.

Katara had made it extremely clear that she didn't want him eating with them—which, truth be told, Zuko didn't mind—he was never the social type. He ate in his room. The food she gave him consisted of bits of cold, goopy gunk scraped up from the bottom of the pot. He had a bowl of the stuff in the corner now, uneaten. Honestly, he'd given up on the food being edible long ago. By the look the lumpy mess, it might rise up from the bowl and eat _him_ any minute.

He sighed and peeled off his wet tunic, rubbing the soaking fabric with his fingers. Even though he didn't complain about the gruel Katara gave him to eat, this morning he'd decided to try to make something himself. There had been an empty pot from breakfast in the main hall. Except, when he'd tried to cook something up (not that he could have, anyway, but it was worth a try) . . . Katara entered the room. Apparently the pot was some unnamed part of her territory. After thoroughly making sure he wouldn't forget that by making good use of the fountain, she'd placed the pot among her things. Zuko had run from the scene of the crime immediately, afraid that his anger would get the better of him and he would accidentally (or not so accidentally) shoot flames in her direction. Thank the spirits he could better control his temper.

Zuko snorted at the very memory. What grudge she had, he didn't know, and he didn't care. He concentrated heat to his hands in the hopes of drying his tunic a bit. Unfortunately the fabric merely sizzled and steam rose in a cloud. Defeated, he donned the tunic again and decided to wait out the day; it would dry before sundown.

No sooner had he pulled the tunic back over his torso than someone knocked on the door, and a second later Aang entered. "Zuko?" he said tentatively. His eye caught the bowl of uneaten food in the corner and his eyes flashed with concern.

Zuko looked up. "Training doesn't start for another hour."

"I was thinking . . . you're soaking wet."

Zuko scowled. "I _know_ that I'm soaking wet. Did you come down here to tell me that?"

Aang chuckled nervously and raised his hands slowly, and the water came out of Zuko's tunic with them. "Right. Well, I was thinking that—I dunno, we could start training earlier today?"

Zuko stared at him in surprise. Aang usually used his free time to do . . . whatever he did. Explore, play in the all-day echo chamber, do Appa and Momo imitations and a bunch of other junk. But not training. "Well . . . okay," he said in confusion, getting up.

Aang beamed as he followed him out the door.

Zuko led the way through the massive Western Air Temple, turning down hallways and rooms the size of cathedrals until they emerged on one of the rock platforms protruding from the side of the cliff. This location was where he taught Aang Firebending. It was located outside, under the cliff face, and there were no plants around to catch fire if one of their flames went astray. Zuko took a deep breath before he started. "We both know that fire is an effective weapon to be used in battle," he began. Aang straightened up to pay attention at once. "But it can also be very useful in the area of defense . . . here, shoot a flame at me and I'll show you."

Aang obeyed, and Zuko created a shield of fire that absorbed Aang's blast. The fire circled around him once and disappeared. "You try now," he told Aang, "but only the shield. We'll practice the real thing later."

Aang tried again and again. He was mostly just able to produce wisps of flame, but his last attempt had resulted in a spinning circle of fire. Unfortunately he lost control, and the fire spun outwards and disappeared on the wind. Zuko was finding, more and more, strangely, that he was liking this teaching thing. Aang was enjoyable company, and there was some kind of satisfaction in giving knowledge of the art of Firebending on to the Avatar—he couldn't place his finger on the feeling. Like he was contributing to keeping his art alive by passing it on.

"That's enough for today," Zuko said at last. It was dusk now and it would almost be time for dinner. If Katara didn't see Aang in a few minutes Zuko would be in trouble.

Aang kicked a pebble with his boot shyly. "Um, Zuko . . . are you going to eat dinner with us?"

Zuko raised his eyebrow, caught off-guard by the question. He'd never eaten dinner with them. Katara left his bowl of gruel out of the way, and he came and got it and snuck back to his room. "No, sorry, Aang."

"Oh," Aang said, his shoulders slumping. "Okay."

Zuko tapped his foot impatiently. _Does he have to take so long to get going?_ Sure, he hadn't told anyone about Katara's death threat so Aang had no way of knowing Zuko would be in trouble if Aang didn't show up for dinner. But he was so slow! "You go ahead," Zuko urged. "I've got that bowl of . . ." He wasn't sure what it was. "Anyway, it's in my room I haven't eaten it."

"It's cold and nasty, though," Aang pointed out.

"I'll heat it up."

"Then it'll be hot and nasty."

"I'm not going to let good food go to waste," he lied.

Aang looked at him like he was crazy. "Zuko, there's no reason to eat nasty junk when we've got a whole pot of warm rice."

_Yeah, a whole pot of warm rice that Katara won't let me touch._ "Just go eat," Zuko sighed.

Aang looked like he was going to object, but Zuko walked away. With a pained look on his face, Aang trudged off to dinner.

Zuko walked through the maze of hallways. Several times he took a wrong turn and had to retrace his steps before he finally found his room. He pushed open the door and shut it behind him and, picking up the cold bowl of gunk, he sat down on the bed.

He took a bite of the revolting stuff and gagged. _Why _couldn't Katara just pick some other form of torture instead of feeding him this junk? Eye twitching, he took another bite. Yes, he was definitely paying the price.

It went on like this for a good fifteen minutes. Zuko choked yet another mouthful down and looked to see how much he had left. To his dismay he'd only eaten half of the bowl's contents.

Someone knocked on the door. Zuko sat up in surprise. He was rarely visited in his room. _I wonder if Aang got there in time,_ he thought worriedly. He edged across the bed towards what he had deemed the Escape Window. "Who's there?"

"It's me. Don't burn my feet this time." A second later the door opened and Toph stepped inside. She studied him for a moment and smirked. "What's up, Zuko? Your heart rate went way up and now you're almost melting with relief."

Zuko felt the heat rise to his face and gnashed his teeth. He hated that she did that. "What do you want?" he asked grumpily, poking at the white goop in his bowl.

She turned serious and walked over to his bed, plopping herself down beside him. "Aang's worried about you."

Zuko froze in surprise at her straightforwardness and stared at her. "What?"

"Call me crazy, but I think you've been losing weight. You never eat with us. Aang says your food's always nasty when he sees it. So, at least when _we _see you eat," Toph poked her finger in his bowl and stuck it in her mouth, and gagged, "it's this _junk_. And then you stay cooped up in here all day, except for when you're training Aang."

Zuko scowled. "Training Aang is my job. The rest doesn't matter."

"It _does_ matter, though," Toph objected. "You're miserable and everyone knows it. Aang cares about his friends, and seeing you down all the time really impacts him. He tried to train with you today earlier to see if it perked you up, but it didn't work. He invited you to dinner but it didn't work. Now _he's_ miserable."

Zuko cupped his chin in his hand and rested his elbow on his knee. "He doesn't have to be. I'm fine. Really."

There was silence for a few moments. Zuko played with the food in his bowl while he wondered when Toph would leave.

"Where did you get that, anyway?" Toph demanded, frowning. "Honestly, I didn't even know we had food that disgusting. Sure, we're stuck in a temple with limited supplies, but Sugar Queen does a pretty good job of scrounging up a tasty meal. You must have looked pretty hard to find _that_." She laughed, apparently amused at the idea of him hunting down disgusting food.

"It's all Katara'll let me have," Zuko snapped.

"What?" Her humor faded. "This is all you've been eating? Zuko, you can't live off of this. I thought you were starting to lose weight, but this is ridiculous!"

Zuko shrugged and made to choke down another bite. "I wouldn't want to make Katara think I dislike her––" he restrained an unsatisfactory belch and a shiver, "––cooking."

"This isn't cooking," Toph snapped angrily, swiping the bowl from his hands and chucking it out the window. "It's nasty and raw and you're going to get something decent to eat _right now_."

Before he could escape through the window she'd grabbed the collar of his tunic and was hauling him off the blankets.

Horrified with the prospect of actually _joining_ the group for dinner, Zuko gripped the edge of the bed with his fingers; he'd never exactly been 'social'. "Toph, it's fine, really!"

"You're almost skin and _bones_, Zuko!"

"I'm fine! Seriously, just let go!"

"You're being hauled out of your room by a _twelve year old girl_. What does that tell you?"

"That doesn't count!" Zuko snapped, desperately clawing at the bed for a better hold as she tugged at him. "You're a champion Earthbender."

Toph paused. "Hmm. Good point." With an almighty yank, she jerked him onto the floor and dragged him out the door.

Zuko tried to slow her down by digging his fingers into any little groove he could possibly find on the floor. Unfortunately she, being an Earthbender, just closed them up or made the earth shift to make pulling him easier. When they were twenty yards from where the group ate Zuko started to panic. "Toph, please, let go, I'll do anything!"

She didn't stop but looked thoughtful. "Anything?"

"YES!"

"Hmm." They were ten yards from the entrance. Zuko waited eagerly for a compromise. Toph plucked at her lip with her free hand and tapped her foot. "Nah, I'm good."

She yanked him forward so hard and fast that he nearly choked. Zuko started thrashing around, trying to break free. He grabbed hold of an old vine on the floor and they had a bout of tug of war that lasted for a few minutes, but of course, she won. "Toph, LET GO OF––"

They were in the main hall now. The group, gathered around a cooking pot, was staring at the two of them in confusion. Zuko couldn't help but wonder if they'd heard them coming down the hall and turned a dark shade of red.

"Zuko's joining us for dinner," Toph announced, dragging him into the ring and depositing him next Aang. She sat down on his other side.

Zuko sat up as soon as he was free of her and resisted his natural impulse to scoot away as fast as he could. He half-raised his hand in greeting with a nervous chuckle.

"What's he doing here?" Sokka demanded.

"He's here to eat something _edible_," Toph retorted.

Katara froze and glared at Zuko. He met her gaze steadily.

"Edible?" Aang asked. "What do you mean, 'edible'?"

"I mean Katara's been starving him, that's what." Toph pushed her own bowl of food towards him and ignored the group's startled faces.

Zuko bit his lip. The food was hardly touched and it smelled delicious. His stomach clenched and growled at the aroma. But somehow he felt that eating it now would be like giving in. Katara, no doubt, would hate him for revealing her. And he couldn't resist the feeling that he'd be no better than a beggar if he accepted the food in such a way. He didn't need charity.

So, no matter how much his stomach protested, he straightened his shoulders and set his jaw. "I'm not hungry."

"I'll take it," Sokka volunteered, but Teo and Haru slapped their hands over his mouth before he could go on.

Toph's breath escaped from between her teeth in an exasperated hiss. "I can tell you're lying."

As much as he tried Zuko couldn't take his eyes off of the bowl. The smell was making his mouth water and he struggled to control himself. "I'm not lying," he said.

Toph shrugged.

Silence reigned. Every eye in the room switched back and forth from Toph to Zuko. Zuko swallowed, fighting the urge to reach out towards the bowl. His stomach roared in hunger and he tried not to flinch every time it gurgled. It was as if the food was tantalizing him. _Is this really worth starving over?_ His mind tried to reason with him: the food should have been his, anyway. Katara was deliberately feeding him junk because she had a grudge against him, and he knew it and thought he deserved it. But she was the only one who didn't trust him; was her anger really justified? Was he doing this so that she didn't feel he had tattled on her, and somehow that would make her accept him? By the look on her face she would hate him no matter what he did, so he was sitting here starving for nothing. His resistance wavered.

Finally he couldn't take it anymore. His hand darted out and snatched up the bowl and chopsticks and he eagerly shoveled the food into his mouth. It tasted even better than it smelled and in seconds he had cleaned the bowl, but his stomach roared and demanded more.

Toph smirked triumphantly.

Aang looked stricken as he passed his bowl to Zuko as well. Zuko muttered his thanks and set to gulping down that, too. "Katara, what did you do?" Aang demanded as he watched him ravenously devour the food.

Katara clenched her fists and glared daggers at Zuko. "Why do _I_ have to cook his food? He can just get it himself if he's hungry!"

They looked at Zuko expectantly.

Now she was getting ridiculous; she knew perfectly well she'd drenched him for trying to do such a thing, but Zuko had a full mouth of food and was willing to put aside his anger and give her a break. Swallowing, he told the half-truth and said, "She keeps all the cooking tools with her things."

"Katara, you know Zuko wouldn't go through your things!" Sokka said in shock. "Why did you keep it there?"

Katara was getting desperate in her anger. "He could have asked to go through and get them!"

And _that_ was where Zuko snapped. Stupid temper. "I _did_ and you threw me in the fountain!" he snarled.

"Truth," Toph said in surprise.

"I did no such thing!" Katara said indignantly.

"False," Toph declared.

"Is that what you do to people?" Zuko was on his feet now, seething. "If you don't like someone or they get on your nerves for whatever reason, you just attack them?"

"How dare you!" Katara started to lunge for him, but Sokka rested a hand on her shoulder, holding her back.

With a snort, Zuko spun around and marched off to his room.

Unfortunately the day after that . . . and the day after that . . . and the day after that . . . Toph made it a point to come drag him out of his room until he got it in his head that he was eating with them from now on.

He started to find that dinner was the most terrifying part of the day.

Zuko knew that eventually he _would_ confront Katara about her grudge. Now just wasn't the right time. He'd let her settle down a bit; he'd only been with them for a week. If it continued on . . . well, he wouldn't take this forever.


	2. Cooking

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender or any of its content.**

* * *

Setting: At the Western Air Temple, the day after the previous chapter.

Although Katara argued the point that she did most of the cooking, after what had happened the night before, the cooking tools were declared public domain. All of the pots and pans were stacked, not at all neatly, against a wall in the main hall, next to the firewood. The problem with this, though, was that Katara was now so angry at losing the debate, she declared that she was no longer cooking for them. Aang, always the optimist, insisted that she would come around in a week or so.

"_What_, then," said Sokka with increasing panic, "are we going to eat until then?"

That was the question that befuddled them all. None of them could cook.

In desperation, Aang looked to Toph. "Toph, you're a girl! What do we do?"

Toph crossed her arms and glared at him. "How am I supposed to know? I'm _blind_, Baldy. I couldn't have learned to cook if I'd ever wanted to."

Next, of course, they looked to Zuko, because he was oldest. Zuko held up his hands in surrender and shook his head helplessly. "Don't look at me! I haven't cooked in my life." Although, he thought about mentioning that miniscule fish he'd caught back when he and Uncle were refugees, but reconsidered—they didn't need to know _that_ embarrassing little detail.

Sokka snorted unhappily. "Of course. As a prince you had everything handed to you, didn't you?"

Zuko didn't disagree.

Aang paced back and forth in thought. "We could hunt around for fruits and vegetables," he offered.

"It's dry as a desert around here," Zuko pointed out.

"Unless you want to explore there." Sokka stalked to the edge of the cliff and jerked his finger downwards. He added sarcastically, "I'm sure Combustion Man is thriving among the fruits and flowers."

Zuko allowed himself a glance at the trench and swallowed. The bottom couldn't be seen, and whatever was down there couldn't be good. Just the mist rising up in plumes seemed to be a sign of foreboding. "I'm going to have to agree with Sokka there, Aang."

"You guys are wimps. It's not that bad."

"I'm not an Airbender, Aang."

"_I'm_ not a bender, period. And if I don't get something to eat soon, I won't be anything at all."

"What do we do then, genius?" Zuko demanded.

Sokka looked rather flattered despite the sarcasm, but shrugged. "I dunno."

Toph sighed in exasperation. "Allow me to gift you with the knowledge of Step One: _find_ the _food_ to _cook_."

That was reasonable. Sokka took off like a komodo-rhino, heading to who knew where in the temple in his frenzied search for food. Aang's first idea was to check the pots and pans; maybe Katara had left a bag of rice among the tools. Zuko followed him, and they began explore among the pots. "Uncooked food _must_ be considered a tool until it's edible!" he said desperately. "What else is it if it's raw?"

"I don't know!" Zuko retorted. At this point they were just randomly throwing pots out behind them in the hopes of finding something promising underneath. The pile got smaller and smaller, and when it was completely diminished they still had nothing to cook with.

Toph ducked as a large pan came flying her way. "Oi! Watch it over there or I'll Earthbend the both of you into next century! How would you like to be responsible for _two_ hundred years of war rather than one, huh, Twinkle Toes?"

They ignored her. Aang's eyes were bulging. "We're gonna _starve_!"

Zuko's eyes trailed over the main hall, tracing every detail: the scattered pans, the fountain, Toph angrily ranting at them though he didn't take in a word, their things . . . his eyes came to rest on Katara's bundle of items. Her things. Where the cooking tools had been. Where the food might still be. He and Aang exchanged glances with each other. "Dare we?" Aang asked.

Zuko winced at the very thought, and what she would do to them afterwards should they sift through her territory. "I'd rather starve," he declared.

Aang agreed. They argued for a moment about whether or not Sokka may be hoarding some food in his sleeping bag; it was very like him. But Aang pointed out that had Sokka been hiding food away, he wouldn't have charged off so quickly in search for more. They argued for awhile more about Sokka's wits and whether or not that was an act to lead them away, but they both concluded in the end that the plan required to do so would be too elaborate for Sokka to care to throw together at the moment.

"Momo!" said Aang, brightening as the lemur scuttled into the room.

"You want to eat your lemur?"

Aang gaped at Zuko while Momo flew to his shoulder, and he scratched Momo's ears protectively. "No, I don't want to eat Momo! He can help us look for food." Aang lifted the lemur from his shoulders and held him before him, so that the lemur was looking straight into his eyes. When Aang spoke it was slowly and deliberately for the lemur to comprehend: "Listen, Momo. I. Need. You. To. Find. Us. Some. Food."

They waited a few moments for a response. Momo blinked and chirruped, tilting his head to one side.

"I think he wants you to ask him, too," Aang said, shoving Momo in Zuko's face.

"I'm not talking to a lemur," Zuko snapped, waving Momo away. The lemur screeched and released itself from Aang's hold, then flew away to somewhere in the temple.

"But he likes to feel _wanted_."

Zuko would have liked very much to say that the only thing he wanted the lemur for was dinner, but that might be going too far. He clamped his mouth shut and, shaking his head, wandered into one of the halls.

Aang trotted after him. "Where're you going?"

"We'll have to scrounge up something to eat instead." Zuko stopped to examine a vine growing along the wall. He squeezed it, he poked it, he wound it around his hand like a rope, compared the thick part to the thin, looked for where it was growing in the wall—

"Wow, where'd you learn to find out if a vine is edible?" Aang asked, impressed.

Zuko honestly had no idea what he was doing; he was just experimenting to see if it triggered anything in the vine. Of course, it didn't, but he wasn't about to admit that. "This, uh—" he showed Aang the thickest part of the vine, "this is really thick, see? Like a tree trunk. So . . . so if you break it open, beyond the outside of the vine, there's, um, really soft . . . juices inside. Yeah."

Aang stared at the vine, wide-eyed. "_Whoa_. Your uncle must have taught you a lot, Zuko."

"Yeah. Sure." Zuko grabbed the vine and heaved, but it was too strong and wouldn't pull free. Scowling, he gripped the vine firmly in his hand and concentrated heat to it; the vine caught fire in that one spot. The thicker bit of it burned away until it was thin enough for Zuko to break it off, and the rest of the flames subsided.

Aang offered his staff and they wound the vine around it so that it resembled a shish—or, rather, staff—kabob. They continued on, looking for edible-looking undergrowth to add to the staff kabob. Most of what they found were vines—occasionally they found berries that they would gather up in their tunics. Aang even declared once that he was certain he'd found some tea leaves; however, after Uncle's little incident with the White Jade, Zuko was unwilling to use any plant found in the wild for tea.

After what Aang thought was an apparently humorous attempt of Zuko trying to get a particularly tender-looking vine that had nearly resulted in Zuko's falling in the temple's water system, they were finally, exhausted, making their way back to the main hall.

"This had better make a real good soup," Aang panted, carrying his enormous staff kabob over his shoulders.

"Yeah, no kidding." Zuko stopped outside one of the rooms abruptly. An aroma was wafting out that was a bit stale, but still appealing. He gently pushed open the door and peered inside. "What do you think is in here—?"

"Zuko," Aang gasped in relief, pointing. "Look."

There, in the room, were several piles of bags of rice, each weighing about fifty pounds. Each bag was large enough that they would have to carry one between them and could probably be used to feed ten people for two meals apiece.

With sudden, renewed vigor, they grabbed a bag to take back with them and hurriedly made their way back to the main hall. Victorious, they proudly dumped their findings on the floor and set to working out the kinks in their backs they had developed while working.

Toph was waiting for them, right where they'd left her. "Oh, you guys found the storage room," she observed.

"You _knew_ there was a storage room?" Aang and Zuko exploded simultaneously.

Toph cocked her head to the side and blinked in their direction, slowly. "Well, duh. I can feel every inch of this temple."

"Is there a reason you didn't _tell_ us?" Zuko demanded.

"Other than the fact that you didn't ask?" Toph shrugged. "Nah, not really."

Fuming, Zuko built up some firewood together while Aang investigated which pot to use. The tools were still scattered all over the floor; he walked from one to the next, testing their weight. Zuko lit the fire and Aang, finally choosing the largest pot with a shrug, filled it up with water.

Zuko fed the fire for a minute before gesturing to Aang. "Okay, it's hot enough. Bring the pot on over."

"Right." Aang tugged at the pot. It refused to budge.

Toph, meanwhile, was laughing so hard she nearly fell off her perch on the side of the fountain. "Maybe you should have brought the giant iron pot over _before_ you filled it full of water, you dunces!"

Blushing, Aang Waterbended the water out of the pot. Zuko dragged the pot over to the fire and managed to position it over the small hearth without further incident; Aang then let the water fall back into the pot.

They watched their reflections ripple in the pot until the water was boiling. They at least knew that the water had to be hot before something could cook in it. Pleased with their progress so far, they turned to the ingredients they'd gathered.

"So . . . what do you reckon we put in it first?" Aang inquired.

Zuko thought hard. Reasoning that the substance of the meal be put in first, he hefted the bag of rice over one shoulder and tore it open at the seam. Since he was hungry, he emptied the entire bag into the pot. Water splashed out of the pot as he emptied it, and when he was sure every last speck of rice was in the pot he threw the bag to the side.

Aang had set to work cutting up the vines with his Waterbending; simply slitting the vines with the sharp edges of a disk of ice was much more efficient than cutting them by hand with a dagger. Zuko picked up the strips, each about as long and thin as his forefinger, and tossed them into the pot as well. When they were done and peered back into the pot, the water had turned a pale green.

"That doesn't look right," Aang said.

"It sure doesn't _smell_ right, either," Toph complained.

"We aren't done yet," Zuko grumbled with a scowl. He picked up a handful of berries and was about to simply chuck them into the pot, but halted himself. Was there a specific way to cook a berry? Maybe he was supposed to squeeze it for the juice, or carve the skin of it off for the pulp, or wash it off first? He almost laughed at himself when he came to his senses. It was just a _berry_. He followed through with chucking it into the pot.

There were so many berries that simply throwing them in soon became boring. He and Aang made a competition of seeing how far they could stand from the pot and still throw the berry in. For the larger berries, they used Aang's staff as a sort of bat and tried to hit them into the pot that way. Unfortunately this smashed several poor berries on the wall and, deciding not to waste any more food, they went back to throwing them in the other way.

That was all they had. When all the berries were thrown in, they stood by the pot to wait. It was interesting to watch. In five minutes the color morphed from pale green, to a blotchy brown, to some sort of unidentified shade of violet.

Aang was watching it curiously. "Uh, Zuko . . . are you sure we're doing this right?"

"Of course," Zuko replied, keeping his eyes on the pot. The fire flickered a bit, so he gave it a boost. The mad barrage of bubbles in the pot were practically exploding at the surface. The art of cooking was simple in his mind: put in raw food, make sure there's something hot to cook it, and out comes edible food. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I think I just saw a dragon-fly zoom over the pot and die."

Zuko leaned over the pot curiously. "I don't see a dragon-fly."

"It's right there," Aang said, pointing to a speck in the soup. "See, that black-ish . . . dot thing."

"There's nothing—"

"Hello," Sokka greeted, walking into the main hall. "Baldy. Jerkbender."

"Where have _you_ been?" Zuko demanded.

"Looking for food, where do you think?" Sokka answered. He waltzed up to the pot and peered inside. "Is that a dragon-fly?" He wrinkled his nose and his face contorted. "And why does it smell so awful?"

"We're not quite sure," Aang admitted.

"Where have you been?" Zuko repeated, agitated. "It's been an hour, and you don't even have food."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Sokka said happily, smirking. "See, while _you_ were busy harvesting hundred-year-old vines, _I_ simply interrogated—"

"Begged," Toph corrected.

"—our wonderful temple-mate, Haru, to see if he might have any food on him. And, be it my lucky day, he did!" From behind his back Sokka produced a bag of fire flakes.

Zuko's mouth watered. Their lust for the delicacy must have shown in their eyes because Sokka, uncertain now, was starting to tuck the fire flakes away.

Everything that happened after that was a blur. Zuko and Aang both lunged for Sokka, who turned and tried to run away. Aang managed to tackle him while Zuko swatted the fire flakes out of his hands. Transfixed, they watched the bag fly upwards, arch high overhead, and then somehow land right in the pot of would-be-stew.

Zuko never did quite figure out this next part—maybe the mixture in the pot combined with an ingredient in the fire flakes and produced a chemical reaction. There was a soft _pop_, a gurgling noise, the stew rushed upwards and out of the pot like a fountain, and then he, Sokka, and Aang were lying on the ground covered in the stew.

"Ew," Sokka said. Zuko wiped some stew off his face so he could see better and looked around. Within a fifteen yard radius of the pot, stew was caked all over the floor. Bits of it were still falling.

Katara emerged from one of the halls, demanding "What happened?" They looked at her guiltily, like children caught doing a naughty thing.

Then she started laughing. She laughed so hard that she doubled over and it was several minutes before she could regain herself. Wiping tears from her eyes, she said, "Aang, help me clean this up."

Katara must have found the situation either funny enough to reward them, or she felt sorry enough for them to help them out, but (thank the spirits) she started to cook again.

To their dismay, Haru didn't have any more fire flakes.


	3. Nightmares

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender, or any of its content.**

* * *

Setting: At the Western Air Temple. Anytime after The Western Air Temple or The Firebending Masters would probably suffice--I imagine it taking place shortly before The Boiling Rock.

"Zuko? Oi! ZUKO!"

Zuko jerked his head up in surprise. "Hunh?" he responded groggily, rubbing a hand over his eyes. It was dinner and he'd zoned out, so to speak. Exhaustion clawed at his bones from lack of sleep.

The group was staring at him and Sokka looked annoyed. "I said," Sokka repeated, "are you going to finish that?" He pointed at the bowl of rice by Zuko's foot.

Zuko blinked tiredly. "Oh. Sure." Stifling a yawn, he nudged the bowl over to Sokka, who eagerly accepted his donation.

"You're too kind, my man!" Sokka exclaimed happily before he happily engaged himself with the bowl.

Zuko rested his chin on his hand and closed his eyes. He was so tired. For the past week he'd barely gotten any sleep at all. Nightmares of his past haunted him constantly. They clawed and chewed at him and spat him back out in the morning, only to devour him again when night fell. He couldn't fight them off. He couldn't fight it in his slumber and, he was ashamed to admit, he was afraid now to fall asleep. Every time he dreamed it felt like an old wound had been freshly opened, and it stubbornly refused to heal. The nightmares were slowly picking him away to nothing. Why the nightmares came _now_ of all times, he couldn't fathom . . . he assumed maybe it was because he finally regretted all the horrible things he'd done.

It was only when he realized that there was no conversation that Zuko opened his eyes to find everyone still staring at him. "Why are you all looking at me?" he demanded crossly.

"Are you okay, Zuko?" Aang inquired.

"Better than ever," Zuko snapped.

"You're lying," Toph sighed.

Zuko mentally kicked himself and he ground his teeth. He always forgot that she did that. "That's not fair." He felt himself beginning to boil. "Why do you have to do that? If people want to keep something to themselves, they should be able to do it!"

Toph kept her face carefully composed but she turned her head away.

"She's just trying to help!" Katara said angrily. Sokka scowled at Zuko's outburst and Aang set to hurriedly gulping down his food while Teo, Haru, and The Duke were mystified by his outburst. Katara studied him for a moment, her expression curious. "What is up with you, anyway? Not that you're usually a ray of sunshine, but recently you're always in a bad mood."

Zuko snorted and got up. No one understood. Why couldn't they just leave him _alone_, for the love of Agni! He stomped away for some privacy, without really taking in his surroundings as he moved. His mind was sluggish.

"What's wrong with him?" Sokka asked behind him.

Zuko quickened his pace. He heard The Duke say softly, "I think he's been having nightmares. I hear him talking in his sleep." But he ignored it and ran to the other side of the temple to cool down.

Away from people, Zuko's anger gave way to despair. Why had he snapped at Toph? Katara was right; she'd only been trying to help. He heaved a sigh and his shoulders slumped. _Great,_ he thought wryly. _Another load to add to the guilt wagon._ As if the nightmares didn't have enough already to feed on.

When he was sure his anger had burnt out he trudged back to the group. They were all getting into their sleeping bags; he had long ago taken to sleeping with them—it was more of a precaution than anything else. If someone had an emergency, or something happened, they would all be grouped together. No one spoke to or looked at him. The Duke had a guilty look on his face like he'd told on someone and avoided Zuko.

Zuko ignored him, unwilling to use the brainpower to think further about what the boy may have given away, and hauled his own bag a bit farther away from the others. He crawled in and made himself as comfortable as he could. Just as he'd got himself settled a mini pillar shot out of the ground and caught him between his shoulder blades. Toph sniggered.

He didn't move and stared stubbornly at the ceiling without touching his aching spine. He deserved it, after all.

Eventually everyone's breathing steadied. Sokka snored. Loud. He drooled, too . . . Zuko had glanced up once to see Sokka's sleeping bag drowning in a puddle once. He shuddered at the memory.

He stared, wide-eyed, into the night, trying to defy sleep, but it clawed at him mercilessly. Zuko tried to count the seconds off until morning came.

One. Two. Three.

Sokka's snores wracked the temple.

Four. Five. Six.

His eyes closed unwillingly and he felt his shoulders relax. Instantly he snapped them back open. Darn, he'd lost his place. Now he had to start over.

One.

Zuko struggled to keep his eyelids from drooping.

Two.

They closed and he fought to stay conscious.

He didn't even make it to three.

_All was black. A streak of lightning illuminated the surroundings. A bridge of ice above black water._

_Zuko turned around, puzzled. When he turned back a man had materialized before his eyes._

"_Zhao," Zuko breathed. His insides felt like ice._

"_You let me die, Zuko," Zhao said coldly. "You let me die."_

"_No." His voice caught in his throat and sounded choked. "No."_

_The black water was rising. Out of it came a shining blue form that reached out and wrapped its claws around Zhao, who made no attempt to free himself as it dragged him downwards._

_Zuko leapt forward. "Take my hand!" _

"_It's too late, Zuko."_

_Zuko watched in horror, clutching the sides of the bridge and shaking with fear and guilt, his hand still extended to Zhao but Zhao was lost._

_He could have saved a life._

_Zhao disappeared underwater, and the blackness rose up and engulfed Zuko as well. For a few moments he felt as if he were suffocating and then the darkness cleared away._

_He was standing in a broken-down village, literally falling apart at hinges from neglect. The street was empty and deserted. Zuko stood still, wondering where everyone was._

"_Never give up without a fight," a voice echoed._

_He was surprised to find that he was holding his dagger. His pearl dagger from Uncle, surrendered by the general when he took Ba Sing Se._

_His dagger, that he'd kept on his person for six years._

_His dagger, engraved with the motto that so inspired him._

_His dagger, that he had used to sever his connection to the Fire Lord._

_It shouldn't be his dagger._

_Zuko looked around desperately for someone, anyone, to give the dagger to. It held so many broken memories . . . scarred memories. He turned around to find a young boy looking at him. _

_He extended the dagger to the boy. "It's yours. You should have it."_

_The boy's face contorted with grief and fury. "No! I hate you!" And with that he was gone, dissolving into grains of sand that blew away on the wind._

_For a moment Zuko stood, stricken. The boy had lost his brother, he knew. It was his fault. His family was responsible for the war. So many people had died and were suffering . . . a flash, and he was standing amidst a bloodied battlefield strewn with bodies. He cried out in dismay._

_He may not have started the war himself, but he sure hadn't done anything to end it. He should have joined the Avatar sooner._

_The Day of Black Sun invasion could have been a success._

_The world faded to black and Zuko felt like he was treading suffocating black water. So suddenly he wasn't aware of it he was thrust into a cavern._

_A crystal cavern._

_On his right was Azula, facing Aang and Katara. They were fighting._

_Zuko's stomach clenched. Against his will, he felt his body move, shooting flames at Aang. He tried to stop but he was helpless, lost to himself as he blocked and attacked in a blind rage. _

_No! he wanted to shout at himself. Stop it! You're on their side!_

_His body ignored him and he could do nothing but watch as he and Azula slowly overtook the two._

_Lightning blasted through the air and in agony he saw Aang fall, a large and ugly scar fresh on his back. Katara, tears streaming down her face, rushed forward to catch him. With perfect clarity he saw the defeated look etched on her face and the lifeless form of Aang's and his heart wrenched and squirmed in his chest._

_Uncle appeared out of nowhere. "You are a pathetic disgrace, Zuko," he spat, holding up his hands to defend Aang and Katara._

_Zuko, against his will and every bone in his body screaming in protest, thrust his fist forward and Uncle was engulfed in flames. His flames. He punched again and the city of Ba Sing Se crumbled beneath his fire._

_If he'd joined them then, Ba Sing Se would still stand._

_If he'd joined them then, they would trust and accept him; they would have nothing to doubt._

_If he'd joined them then, Uncle may still be at his side._

_The world faded and he was standing in a void. Zuko sank to his knees. "Please," he begged the silence in a choked voice. "Please. No more. No more."_

_He felt himself trembling. "No more," he whispered._

"_Dad's going to kill you," a voice sang into the blackness. A small girl, perhaps eight years old, skipped into view. She smirked at him. "Really. He is."_

_Zuko looked down at his hands. They were small. He clutched his blankets to him and was surprised to find himself in a bed. "Haha, Azula. Nice try." His voice was much younger._

_He was ten years old._

"_Fine, don't believe me," Azula said, shrugging. "But I heard everything. Grandfather said Dad's punishment should fit his crime. 'You must know the pain of losing a first born son by sacrificing your own!' I know! Maybe we can find a nice Earth Kingdom family to adopt you!"_

"_Stop it. You're lying." Zuko squeezed his eyes shut. "Dad would never do that to me."_

_The girl, with a final shrug, dissolved to nothingness and he was left alone in his bed._

"_Azula always lies. Azula always lies. Azula always lies," he chanted._

_Hidden voices took up the chant like an enchanting ritual even after Zuko had stopped speaking. He had a notion that it was time for breakfast._

_He climbed out of bed and plodded down a hallway that seemed to form with each step he took. The voices continued to chant. Suddenly the hall disappeared and he was standing in an empty room._

_Where there was nothing there was now a chair and table with a warm bowl of food. Zuko sat in the chair and took a bite of his breakfast, unsuspecting._

_Instantly it was as if he were on fire. He couldn't breathe. He writhed and broke out in a sweat, gasping and choking for air. _

_The food was poisoned._

_The spoon fell from his hand and everything dissolved to complete blackness, except for one man._

_His father looked at him in disgust. "Good-bye, Zuko."_

"_Dad . . . help me," Zuko choked out. He reached for his father, who had not moved at all, but somehow he always stayed out of reach. "Please . . ." _

_The poison reached his heart and he was burning, on fire, far beyond pain and helpless to stop it and all he could do was writhe in agony as his father stood there and watched him die—_

"AAAARGH!"

Zuko's eyes flew open as the cry tore from his throat and he jumped out of his sleeping bag, gasping for breath. He was drenched in sweat and could hardly stand from his trembling, and he looked around wildly for his father and Azula. It took several moments for him to realize he wasn't in pain and he was safe at the Western Air Temple, surrounded by the group. A few of them were stirring from the ruckus he'd made. "Zuko?" The Duke asked groggily.

Zuko tried to calm himself and failed, jittery, panicked. He couldn't let the group see him like this: weak, scared, vulnerable. Terrified, he bolted from the hall and ran blindly through the temple. He wasn't sure where he was going, just through halls, down more halls, running as if he could leave the nightmares behind.

Clumsy with exhaustion, he staggered and ran into a pillar. Pressing his back against the solid form, he sank to the ground and buried his face in his hands, taking deep breaths to get his mind straight.

It was difficult to see through the fog clouding his mind. Every hair on his arms and the back of his neck was raised, but his senses seemed dimmed. He could hardly see or hear anything and all he could do was stare at the ground blankly. He could hardly move a muscle.

Azula didn't always lie. For him, she could find it in herself to be brutally honest.

How would his father have killed him if his mother hadn't interfered? Burned him? He sure hadn't had a problem with that in the Agni Kai. Lightning, maybe? It would be quick, and he'd tried that after the eclipse without a second thought. But most definitely poison would have been the cleanest way. Little Zuko, innocent and looking forward to another day of play, would come to breakfast. Little would he know that breakfast would be his last.

Zuko chanced a glance up at the sky. It was barely midnight. He still had hours until morning. That meant another bout of nightmares.

Zuko took a shuddering breath and let it out as a groan. The nightmares were getting worse. They were getting worse and he was helpless to stop them. The only way to avoid them was not to sleep, and he'd tried that. He'd tried everything. Every regret he'd ever known showed itself in his dreams.

_I'm trying to fix it now,_ he thought desperately. _Why can't they leave me alone?_

"Please, please go away," Zuko pleaded softly in a broken voice, squeezing his eyes shut. The thoughts buzzing in his mind whirled and increased until his head felt like it would split open but he didn't stop the chanting. He didn't know how long he recited it; he didn't keep track of time as the minutes ticked by. "Please, please . . ."

Suddenly the thoughts stopped altogether, as if frozen. They faded and his mind had order again.

Zuko kept his head in his hands and his eyes shut. The chanting died away. His head felt cool and he was able to take deep, shaky breaths, and his shoulders relaxed and slumped as the dark thoughts dissipated and finally, finally left him alone.

"Is he going to be okay?"

Zuko felt too weak to lift his head but recognized the voice as Aang's.

"There's nothing wrong with him," Katara's voice said above him. Zuko recognized the cool feeling as water: she was holding globs of water to either side of his head to calm him down with its healing power. "It's just a nightmare."

With effort Zuko raised his head to look at them all. "Katara's right; go back to bed. I'll be fine."

"I can tell you're—" Toph stopped abruptly.

"I know," Zuko sighed in defeat. He started to get up but Katara pushed him down.

He looked up at her in mild surprise. Her eyes softened considerably when they met his—it dawned on him he must look fairly pathetic and was embarrassed enough to crawl into a hole and die. "We can't have you stumbling around like a zombie when you're training Aang. I'll do this," she nodded to the globs of water next to his head, "until you calm down, and that should promise a dreamless, uneventful slumber. You'll be fine until morning."

Before he could protest and tell her he'd be fine and they should go to bed she'd started the healing again. The water glowed brightly and he shivered with delight as the cool sensation crept through him, and his body refused to let him object to it.

After a few minutes the rest turned to go, but Aang hesitated a moment. "You know, Zuko," he remarked, "I don't know all that you've done. All I know is that it can't be changed. Regret won't get you anywhere. All you can do is work to be forgiven."

Zuko closed his eyes and let Aang's words settle in. They were like an echo, a hope, a promise, that some part of him subconsciously clung to.

Aang was wise, for a child.

The nightmares gradually settled down after that.


	4. Into the Water System, Part I

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender, or any of its content.**

**A/N: This chapter ended up being about 4,500 words long, so I divided it into this smaller chapter, and another longer one. :D This is my solution to a detail about the Western Air Temple that has plagued me to no end . . . whether it makes sense or not, I don't know. XD**

* * *

Setting: At the Western Air Temple, shortly after The Boiling Rock. Like, the day after.

"But where does it _go_?"

Zuko was fixed comfortably against the side of the fountain . . . resting. Or bored, which may be more accurate. In the excitement that followed the return of Suki and Hakoda, and the new arrival of Chit Sang, he had deemed teaching Aang impossible for a day or two. Besides, the kid could use a break. When they'd come back from the Boiling Rock Aang's legs were practically frozen as if in a saddle for all the hot squats he'd done in Zuko's absence.

Sokka was staring at the fountain in frustration. With his forefinger, he traced the stream of water cascading from the roof. "Seriously! There aren't any big bodies of water around here or anything. And yet, here's an age-old fountain that is still running even though no one's touched it in decades. There has to be a source."

Zuko shrugged in response. He had long since learned of Sokka's abiding interest in architectural designs and inventions and such. Not being able to figure out where the water came from, and where it went, since he'd arrived at the temple frustrated him to no end.

Sokka paced to the edge of the cliff-side and gazed down, where the small aqueduct from the fountain poured itself into the depths below. As much as he squinted, the bottom still appeared to be its foreboding, murky, bone-chilling self.

When he veered away sharply . . . well, that was when Zuko knew trouble was brewing.

He stood up with a sigh, stretched until the lazy weariness had left his bones, and followed Sokka as he trekked through the temple. If Sokka acknowledged that Zuko was behind him, he didn't show it. Finally they came to a small room that Appa had chosen to nap in that afternoon.

Zuko stopped before the bison while Sokka climbed onto Appa's head. "Are you coming?" said Sokka, looking at him expectantly.

"What are you doing?" Zuko asked in reply, dreading the answer.

Sokka picked up the reins and shot Zuko an all too innocent look. "I'm just going to see where the water goes. That's it." At Zuko's frown, he exclaimed, "It's not like I'm trying to break people out of prison again! Just a quick look, that's all I want."

Zuko relented for two reasons. One, Sokka was a danger to himself and was innocently asking for trouble. Two . . . no. Never mind. There was just that one.

Zuko climbed up Appa's fur and positioned himself in the saddle. "I'm not so sure this is a good idea," he remarked idly.

Sokka shrugged and slapped the reins. "Yip, yip."

Appa groaned in protest as he heaved himself to his feet; he didn't like to have his nap interrupted. He stalked to the edge of the temple, released a gaping yawn that echoed throughout the room, and jumped off of the cliff.

Zuko gripped the ridge of the saddle as the wind rushed up around him in gusts, whipping his hair about, and the ground fell away from below. Riding a bison, he decided, was a remarkable thing. Of course, he'd never admit that, especially to Aang, who had always pestered him about being more positive while flying. Riding the bison had, in fact, eventually settled in, but his pride wouldn't let him confess to it.

Sokka guided the bison over to the place where the water fell away from the cliff, and Appa descended around that stream in circles. Every now and then Appa's great, pink tongue would dart out to catch some water, and Zuko and Sokka were sprayed with the excess droplets. At one point Appa decided that it was hot outside and tried to fly directly under the waterfall; it took several moments of Zuko and Sokka yelling and pounding his thick fur before the bison grumpily flew out of the water's way.

Then they descended into the mist. Zuko could only see a shadow of his hand as he waved it in front of his face. Sokka was merely a blur.

Appa's strokes were getting less and less certain. Zuko could swear that the circles were getting larger and farther from where they meant to be. Looking around, he couldn't see the water anywhere; the mist was too thick to see it. There was only the faint shadow of Sokka through the fog and Appa's constant bobbing. Nothing else but thick walls of haze. It was a strange feeling, to feel suspended in nothingness.

"I think we lost the waterfall."

"No kidding."

Zuko scowled and rolled his eyes. "Let's go _up_, then, and find it. Or, even better! Just forget this whole crazy business and go back to the temple."

"That's no problem; I'll find it again," Sokka reassured. "I think it was in . . . that direction?" Zuko saw his hand shoot up and point in one direction, then retreat back to Sokka's form and scratch his head. "Or maybe . . ." The hand shot out again, pointing in the opposite direction.

"Sokka, we're going to hit a wall."

Sokka laughed and spun around to face Zuko, even though they could hardly see each other. "Zuko, all walls can be broken. I know that you're new to the group and probably haven't been in such tight fixes as we have—"

". . . Sokka—"

"Although," Sokka laughed, "that time you got stuck in the blizzard was pretty stupid. Anyway, all I know is that every time we feel like we're trying to move a brick wall—"

"No, there's really—"

"—we always come through. You'll learn that, someday." Sokka sounded quite proud of his wisdom. "And, even though this little expedition sounds a bit pointless to you—"

"—the wall—"

"—this isn't even close to some of the brick wall's _we've_ had to move and bust through, but don't worry; I'm sure—"

"LOOK AHEAD OF YOU, MORON!"

Sokka spun around so quickly he nearly fell off of Appa's head and yanked the reins just in time to send Appa spiraling downwards to avoid the wall of the cliff-side. It had appeared out of the mist suddenly; one second there was nothing but fog, the next the giant wall loomed up in front of them.

Appa half-roared, half-squeaked (which still sounded like a roar, coming from a beast his size) as they spiraled downward. They were so close to the wall that his tail crashed into it while he was regaining his balance, and he spiraled downwards. Appa only just managed to catch himself as the bottom of the pit rose up to meet them; he spread all six of his legs and landed with a shuddering halt.

Zuko swung himself out of the saddle. Everything spun in a multitude of color before his eyes and he landed so awkwardly on the ground that he staggered forward. He groaned and leaned back to stretch the kinks in his back. Wetness seeped into his boots; he looked down and was almost (not quite) amused (he always seemed to have this bad luck) to find that he was knee-deep in mud.

Sokka plummeted face-first into the muck.

If Zuko had not been so frustrated, that alone would have probably sent him into an uncharacteristic laughing fit. As it was, he waded over to Sokka and, rather than offering him a hand up, simply waited for him to pick himself up out of the mud. Appa grumbled unhappily and moved away from them.

While Sokka stood up and spluttered indignantly, wiping the mud off of himself, Zuko examined their surroundings. It was somewhat difficult because the mist was still present, but it had faded a bit at the bottom so it was easier to see. They were, no doubt, at the floor of the abyss. Everywhere, with the exception of a lonely rock jutting out of the ground here and there, or a group of weeds, there was mud. Heaps of mud. Zuko didn't mind; he'd been through a lot worse than _mud_, but Sokka scowled at it and muttered under his breath as he wiped it from his eyes and such. About ten yards away was a river that was about twenty feet in width. "That must be the river," he remarked.

Sokka brightened at the sight of it and apparently forgot his muddy state. "Yeah! But . . ." He frowned. "How does it get back up to the temple?"

Zuko groaned. "I don't _care_. You said you just wanted a quick look. Let's go back up now."

Sokka ignored him and made his way to the riverbank, still frowning. "But there _has_ to be a way."

"There is, but we're not going to find it today." Zuko grabbed Sokka's shirt collar and started hauling him back towards Appa.

Before Sokka could even protest, a high-pitched whistle sliced through the air. Zuko could hardly hear it; there was only a slight twitch in his ear, but Appa's head shot up. As if helplessly drawn towards the source, Appa took off without a second glance at them and disappeared into the mist.

"Oh, no," Zuko moaned. He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled frantically, "APPA! Get back here!"

"Don't leave us _behind_!"

"Bison!"

"Air thing!"

"Yip yip!"

"Return! Alakazam! Come back Sesame!"

No amount of their shouting worked. After ten minutes of jumping up and down, waving their arms wildly, calling for, coaxing, bribing, and then cursing Appa, they finally realized that nothing, even Zuko firing flames into the air while Sokka shouted, "Follow the landing lights!" was going to bring Appa back.

They collapsed in the mud. "Stupid bison whistle," Sokka muttered.

"Stupid curiosity," Zuko grumbled.

"Hey, don't blame my natural virtues."

"Oh, I am most definitely blaming your natural virtues."


	5. Into the Water System, Part II

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender, or any of its content.**

* * *

Setting: Directly after the previous chapter.

They refused to look at each other. Zuko focused on a nearby weed. Azula had once told him that if you stared at something flammable long enough, it would catch fire. He had, of course, given up on that theory by the time he'd reached the age of ten, but he still concentrated on the plant. Concentrating on something helped to control anger.

Presently Sokka said, "Well . . . we could try the river."

"Why would we try the river?" Zuko demanded crossly. "It only leads _away_ from the temple, and besides, you've gotten us into enough trouble for one day."

"Well, I'm going to try to get us out of trouble." Sokka marched towards the water with as much dignity as he could muster while being both covered in and hindered by mud. Sokka called behind him, "The river has to lead back into the temple somewhere, doesn't it?" He began to tug at a large log that had washed up on shore.

Zuko bit his tongue to keep from saying anything too rash and helped pull the log free of the mud. Straddling one log in the water was hard enough for one person, let alone two, so they searched along the bank for another one. Eventually they found one that was much smaller, but would get the job done. They didn't have any rope, so they undid the sashes to their tunics and used them to bind the logs together. When they were done they pushed them out into the river.

The river did not move quickly at all and really did nothing more than lap at their clothing. They mounted the log, straddling it as they would an ostrich-horse, and waited for the current to pick it up. It did, almost immediately, but they moved down the river about as quickly as one might on land at a leisurely walk. Maybe.

The day dragged on. More than once Zuko tried to speed the logs' progress by kicking out in the water. Each time he failed, but it relieved some of his frustration to at least try to do something.

The silence was deafening. It was as if nothing lived at the bottom. No wind stirred, and there no leaves to stir. The sky wasn't visible; it was blocked by the clouds of misty vapor. The water was brown and murky. It was so shallow in this part of the river that the tips of his boots brushed the bottom as the log moved. He pulled them up in the hopes that it might speed up their progress if they didn't drag so much. It didn't help.

"I blame you," Zuko declared. He wasn't sure why hesaid it. It just slipped out; he hadn't wanted to make conversation and had actually welcomed the silence, but he accidentally lost hold of his tongue and broke the spell.

"How is this my fault?" Sokka demanded.

"You and your virtues got us down here in the first place," Zuko growled.

Sokka ignored him. "I wonder if Combustion Man is down here somewhere?"

"He's dead," Zuko said firmly. "No one could have survived that fall."

He turned away from Sokka guiltily. He kept trying to tell himself that "Combustion Man" would have tried to kill Aang even if he hadn't sent the man after the group. But because it had been Zuko who had hired him, it was Zuko's fault that he had come after the Avatar. It was Zuko's fault he was dead.

"Honestly, I probably wouldn't be surprised if he survived," Sokka said thoughtfully. "He was kind of like you, showing up at the most random moments to kill us."

"Great," Zuko said sarcastically.

The log bobbed sharply as the river seemed to increase in speed. At least they were moving at a noticeable pace now. Zuko leaned to the side to see past Sokka, but the mist was too heavy to see beyond a hundred yards. He furrowed his brow as his eyes fell on the water. The river was wider than it had been, and moving swiftly. It was no longer as muddy as before; the riverbanks were rock rather than muck.

The log pitched again, this time more sharply, as they slid down into some minor rapids. None were violent enough to throw them from the log by any means, but it was beginning to pick up much more speed. Zuko had to grip a branch protruding in front of him as a particular fall sped the log up to twice the speed that they had been going. He turned his back to the other boy to study the rapids—the dips in the river were steeper.

"Sokka," he said slowly without taking his eyes off the rapids, "I think we're—"

Metal fingers gripped his shoulder. Zuko yelped and slipped, falling off the log. The water almost caught him up, but he still had his grip on the branch and used it to haul himself onto the log.

"What was that for?" Zuko spluttered.

Sokka was holding a metal arm, the only bit of Combustion Man that hadn't blown up. Laughing, he wiped tears from his eyes. "Oh, that was great," he chuckled. "So, did you think Combustion Man was after you?"

"That wasn't funny!" Zuko yelled. "Put it back!"

Sokka frowned and examined the metal arm. "Why?"

"Because you're disrespecting a worthy opponent, now put it back!"

Sokka looked like he was about to use it as a back-scratcher, to annoy Zuko further, but he reconsidered at the look on Zuko's face. "All right, all right; I was just joking," he said, putting the arm back into the water. "So, what were you saying?"

Zuko gestured to the rapids. "The river's picking up speed really quickly. Is that a good thing?"

Any amusement vanished from Sokka's face. "Oh." He turned back to face the front of the log and leaned forward, as if that would help him see ahead. "I was so busy trying to catch you off guard, I didn't notice. No, that's not really a good thing. Whenever Katara and I were in rapids like this in the South Pole, we steered out of it as quick as possible."

"What's it mean?" Zuko inquired.

"Well, either harsher rapids ahead, or waterfall."

"WHAT?"

No sooner had Sokka said it than the roar came to their ears. "Yup," Sokka said, "definitely a waterfall."

Sokka wasn't panicking and out of the two of them, Sokka had more experience with these situtations than someone in the Fire Nation. So, Zuko took a deep breath through his nose and asked calmly, "What should we do?"

Sokka pointed ahead. "The water's disturbed there. That piece of land divides the river in two. We already know that this particular stream is going to go over the falls; our only hope is to get the log into that other stream."

Zuko saw what he was talking about. There was a fork in the river, so to speak. He nodded and settled down on the log, balancing himself carefully on his back. Then he shot as much fire as he could muster out of his boots. It was a strain to keep his legs straight while the fire shot out; his muscles contorted and his legs wanted to bend under the force. Sweat broke out as he forced a greater spurt of flame.

Little by little the force of the jets of fire guided the log farther to the side that they were aiming for. "Yeah, that's it!" Sokka shouted excitedly. "There aren't any rapids in this other stream. If you can get us there, we'll be safe!"

Zuko grunted in reply and squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the log while he focused on shooting as many flames out of his feet as he could.

"Keep going," Sokka called. "You're good—you're good—we're gonna make it, just keep it up, we're gonna make it!—we're, we're—we're not gonna make it!"

"Oh, come on!" Zuko yelled in frustration.

"Just push harder!"

"You push!" Zuko retorted, but he focused all his power into a final surge of flame so sudden and powerful that it sent the log skidding into the other current. It flipped over, landing on top of them.

Zuko pulled himself back onto the log and offered a hand to Sokka, who took it. He nearly tipped himself over again in trying to pull the other boy up, but they managed it. The two of them sat there, panting.

This river was still moving swiftly, but had no rapids. The current from which they had come was tumbling over a cliff that was but a few hundred yards away; they could the roar and crashing of the falls.

"Well, that was exciting," Sokka remarked.

Zuko could do nothing but nod. Once he'd finally gulped in enough air to satisfy his lungs, he paid more attention to their new surroundings. The river curved, into a cave in the cliff-side, taking the log and them with it.

The light faded as the river guided them inside. All they could hear was the gurgling of the running water. Zuko held his hand before him and a flame flickered into view. It didn't offer much light, but its warmth was comforting.

"An underground river," Sokka observed in awe. They spoke in whispers. Speaking normally would be too loud; even their lowered voices echoed along the walls. "That still doesn't explain how the water gets from here_ up_ to the temple."

"I can't believe you're still focused on that!" Zuko hissed.

The river drifted along quietly for a few minutes. Wolf-bats hung from the ceiling, glaring hungrily at Zuko's light. He dimmed the fire a bit, but the light still caught their eyes and the eyes' glazed, red appearance shown through the dark. Zuko and Sokka shuddered simultaneously.

Presently they heard a steady _thrunk_, _thrunk_, _thrunk_—the kind of sound produced when one submerges a bucket in water, and the water all rushes in. They exchanged curious glances. "Zuko, give us a little more light," Sokka said.

The fire flared up, making one of the nearby wolf-bats growl softly and fidget with its wings. The flame was strong enough to light up most of the cave around them. They were in a huge cavern; the ceiling was so high that they couldn't see it. It was a dead end, but there was a giant waterwheel ahead of them—it was at least two hundred yards in diameter, with hundreds of trough-sized buckets. The river pushed the wheel forward and while it moved, the troughs scooped water up in them. Each trough was then lifted by the wheel and deposited somewhere near the top that they couldn't see.

"Do you reckon we should try it?" Zuko asked.

Sokka shrugged. "Where else would we go?"

They stuck their hands in the water and paddled the log forward, though they didn't need to. The river carried them right under the ancient wheel. Zuko flinched at the great creaks it produced; it amazed him that even though it was powered by water, something so old would still be working after all this time.

One of the troughs came from under them and scooped them up; the bucket was large enough to hold the log. Soon they'd left the river and were in a flying bucket. Zuko looked above him, curious as to where the water went after the wheel. It looked like it was poured out of the troughs at the top, but he couldn't see into what; other troughs were in the way.

Finally it was their turn. The trough above them was emptied of its contents, and their own bucket rose and replaced it. Zuko and Sokka got a shock that they hadn't expected:

Most of the mountain on which the Western Air Temple was placed was _hollow_.

For a moment Zuko just gaped. A giant cavern lay before them. Like webs, structures crisscrossed all over the cavern in an elaborate sequence of water transportation—it was similar to the way goods were transported in Earth Kingdom cities, like Omashu: with carts that sped through built canals in the city, like a coaster. The difference here was that there were no carts, because the water flowed through the suspended canals of its own accord.

Zuko only had time to utter a single swear before their log tipped into the first of the canals. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" they screamed.

The first canal seemed to go straight down. Zuko's hair was blown back from his face and the wind tore the cry from his throat, so they sped down the structure in silence. At the bottom of that first horrifying hill the canal veered back up, and the sudden change in direction nearly threw them from their seats.

The momentum from the slope carried them up the incline and, to their relief, the canal leveled out for a few yards. "What do you think of your natural virtues now?" Zuko demanded.

"I think they can go hide in a hole and die," Sokka moaned.

The canal dipped again.

It was horrible. By the time they neared the end of the blasted structure Zuko was ready to puke from the feeling of having his heart leap to his throat, Sokka already had puked, and they were so dizzy and waterlogged that they could hardly hold onto the log. Though they didn't know it, the wild structure was designed to lift them higher and higher into the mountain—it did this by using the extra momentum from the falls to go a little higher after each hill. It was difficult to tell that they were escalating because it took so long to do so.

Zuko belched uncomfortably. "How much farther?" he groaned.

Sokka pointed ahead feebly. "One more slope, and then it levels out."

This last one was a monster. The final incline was so great, that the slope needed to gain the speed to complete it was nearly straight up and down. Zuko closed his eyes for this one.

When it was over he couldn't hold it in more, and leaned over the side and threw up.

They decided that the worst was now behind them (nothing could be more awful than _that_). Now the water was moving slowly. The new canal was small and getting thinner. The squeeze for their log became smaller and smaller until it got stuck. They were forced to step out of it, heave it out of the stream, and trek through the waist-deep water of the aqueduct themselves.

Zuko was shivering and, no matter how many times he tried to summon a flame to warm them, it wasn't effective when they were squirming through cold water. Sokka was too tired to walk and simply leaned back, letting the river carry him. Zuko didn't feel comfortable letting the water take him, so he continued to walk instead. Since Sokka had the river's speed on his side, the distance between them grew greater with every passing minute.

Finally Zuko called, "I think you should wait for me to catch up."

"Why?" Sokka said indignantly. "I'm as old as you are, Princey, and I can fend for myself, thank you."

Zuko rolled his eyes. Right. "I just don't think we should get separated."

"Oh, don't worry about it." Sokka waved him away with his hand. "The canal goes straight so there's no way to get lost." He turned around to confirm this suspicion and was shocked. "There's a dead end . . ."

"_What_?" Zuko groaned. They couldn't have come all this way for nothing!

Sokka was swimming towards the dead end. "It just ends right—" He was sucked under.

At first Zuko thought Sokka was joking and he got even more aggravated. His second thought was that Sokka had gone underwater to examine the dead end more thoroughly. His third thought was, _Come on, a Water Tribe boy can't swim?_ And finally, his fourth thought was that maybe Sokka was indeed in trouble.

"Sokka?" he called uncertainly. When there was no answer, he swam forward in the water. "Sokka!" he shouted as he reached the dead end, but before he could do anything else he was pulled under as well.

There was a quick sensation of being squeezed through a straw; he was being dragged through a tube so thin that his arms were pinned to his sides. He thought he would suffocate; no light could be seen through the water; all was black; but just as his lungs began screaming for air he was shot out of the tube—

—and straight into the fountain.

Zuko spat the water from his mouth and gasped for air. Sokka was choking up water beside him. Water fell from the fountain as if nothing had happened.

Apparently they had been eating dinner; the group was staring at them with their chopsticks frozen halfway to their mouths. Zuko wondered briefly how ridiculous it had looked to have two boys fall suddenly out of the fountain.

Aang finished his bite, amused. "Where have—"

"Don't ask," Sokka said tiredly, and Zuko groaned and let himself fall back into the water.

* * *

**A/N: Please review! :)**


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